


The Wall

by Amymel86



Series: Jonsa Drabblefest May 2020 [10]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha!Jon, Drabble, F/M, Omerga!Sansa, jonsa drabblefest, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:15:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24180442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/pseuds/Amymel86
Summary: One would think a gathering of so much alpha blood would cause mayhem and constant discontent, but Jon finds that he and his brothers can get on well enough so long as there is not one whiff of an omega to stir their senses.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: Jonsa Drabblefest May 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738762
Comments: 21
Kudos: 173
Collections: Jon x Sansa Drabble





	The Wall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Gifting to Tanya, who inspired the idea! <3

It’s never normally such a problem – having a band of brothers, practically made up of alpha blood. _Second alphas_ , the lot of them. They present but either have no want to, or are unable to challenge the current alpha of their pack. They get sent here – to The Wall.

One would think a gathering of so much alpha blood would cause mayhem and constant discontent, but Jon finds that he and his brothers can get on well enough so long as there is not one whiff of an omega to stir their senses.

Occasionally they’ll get a visit – a newly presented omega searching out his or her mate. His brothers become ravenous with the scent of it. Jon remembers the manacles around his wrists, chained to the wall by a non-presented brother, so that Alys Karstark might safely scent them all and see if there was anyone to her liking.

When a letter came, announcing his own sister had presented, Jon is pleased that at least he will not be shackled for this visit.

It is arranged that he should meet with Sansa at Moles Town and escort her to Castle Black. He may even be able to help in her choice of mate. He knows his brothers well, and, although the bond is not so much a ‘choice’ as an instinctual connection, he plans on steering her clear of some of the more unsavoury characters.

He’s told which door to knock at the inn. His scalp tingles but he tells himself he’s just excited to see a Stark again. He’s barely awaited her answer of ‘come in’ when he finds himself scenting the air. This isn’t right – her heat should not affect him, he’s her brother. He fumbles with the latch and near enough falls into the room. _By the Gods,_ her scent is strong here!

“Jon!” she gasps, whirling ‘round, eyes wide. Her petal pink lips part and she lifts her face, sniffing – taking delicate little drags of air through her nose.

Jon is consumed with the essence of her. His omega – he’s sure of it. But that simply cannot be.

She’s panting. Both staring at one another. Unsure as to why they can practically taste one another in the air.

Tilting her neck, Sansa bares her throat to him. An invitation.

He’s against her in the blink of an eye, nose pressed to her skin. She rocks into him and _Gods,_ he’s never been this hard. Taking a swipe of a taste with the flat of his tongue leaves him with his eyes rolling to the back of his head and goosebumps trickling down his spine.

“Why do you smell so good?” his sister whines, hands grasping for him, pulling him closer, closer, closer. He wishes he had an answer.

He mouths gently at her neck, testing, teasing with his teeth and he knows instantly that right or wrong, this is where he’s meant to be. His hands start to unbuckle his sword belt. “Do you receive me?” he asks of his new mate.

She’s panting harder now, grabbing fistfuls of her skirts and lifting them in desperation.

“Do you receive me?” he growls. His head may be swimming in the thick, sweet, syrupy fog of her scent but he’ll not take her without consent.

Sansa nuzzles at his jaw and lets out a whine. “We shouldn’t.”


End file.
